


One Last Good Day

by Buckie



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: (and so am I), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bittersweet, Depressing, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Last Time, M/M, Sad Ending, Sick Character, Snake is dying, Snake is senile and very sick, Topping from the Bottom, bottom otacon, just... hurt, sort of, top snake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 01:30:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6495469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckie/pseuds/Buckie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The doctors had warned them both of this. That a day might come where Snake would feel on top of the world. Like he was never sick. Like he wasn’t dying."</p><p>"The last good day."</p><p>A one-shot depicting Snake's last good day. Ever. Very depressing. Old Snake/Otacon. Mild spoilers for something that will happen in 111-555-xxxx (numbers). Hopefully this fits with at least most of the canon. Sometimes I forget things. Sorry.</p><p>Why must I hurt myself this way?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Last Good Day

Sometimes Snake had good days. Days where he could get out of bed on his own. Days where he could dress himself. Days he remembered where he left his cigarettes.

Sometimes Snake had bad days. Days where he couldn’t even breathe right. Days where he couldn’t sit up for long periods of time. Days where he forgot Otacon’s name.

Today was going to be a bad day, Otacon thought to himself as he woke up to the sight of Snakes cramped, hands stretched out in front of him, fingers distorted and angular. He quietly wiggled free from Snake’s arms, tried his best not to wake him. Days like this were much easier when Snake wasn’t awake. It hurt less. For the both of them.

Snake stirred, taking a breath in and immediately choking on it, coughing and spluttering, eyes squinting in pain.

Otacon was there immediately, crouching next to the bed and carefully turning Snake around so that he was on his side, facing him. He brought up the bucket just in time to catch the vomit.

Soothing him was the best he could do at times like this, telling him he was alright, rubbing his back, telling him he loved him. It was the best that anyone could do when their lover was dying, quickly growing impossibly old right before their eyes. It was the best he could do not to cry, to hold it in until he had a moment to sob quietly in their bathroom. Or their kitchen. Or their living room. It was the best he could do… and it wasn’t helping one fucking bit.

He’d hoped so hard that he could find a cure, could find a way to stop or at least slow down the ageing process. He’d tried for so long, wanted to spend as much time with this man as possible, wanted to grow old together with him, wanted to have him see Sunny grow up and get married and have kids… or whatever she wanted to do. But nothing had worked. Nothing ever worked.

Snake coughed again, throwing up more bile in the process. And Otacon just hushed him, just brushed his hair from his face. Just dabbed the spittle away from his chin with the flannel they kept on his bedside table.

It was days like this, Otacon mused, when he thought about the ‘what ifs’. What if he’d never met Snake? What if they’d never fallen in love? What if they’d just run away together way back then? What if Otacon just… left?

But they were just fleeting thoughts. Ones that he never thought on for long because he’d never find the answers he’d want. The ones he needed. And besides, despite the fact that this wasn’t the most glamourous thing that someone could be doing with their Saturday morning, he did love Snake. With all his heart. With his soul. He’d never truly wish to be anywhere else other than by this man’s side. Through the nights, through the wars and endless battles, through the lovely calm moments they’d shared… and through his dying days.

The coughing slowed, Snake’s eyes fluttering open slightly to look at Otacon with a glassy gaze.

“Hello,” Otacon said quietly, smiling as best he could under the circumstances.

Snake made a choked noise at the back of his throat, eyes flashing to and fro.

There were days when Snake couldn’t even talk. Those were the worst days.

“Do you want to sit up?”

Snake responded with a single blink.

Otacon stood slowly and gently lifted Snake’s head off of the pillow, fluffing it up and propping it up against the headboard. He cupped Snake’s face.

“Ready?”

Snake blinked once.

It was always a bit of a struggle for Otacon to lift Snake’s ridiculously heavy body. But it was harder when said body wasn’t cooperating. Not that that was Snake’s fault, of course. He wasn’t exactly able to cooperate.

“Can I try moving your arms?” Otacon asked, still seeing they were outstretched and cramped.

Snake blinked once and gave an unintelligible grunt.

A few minutes of shifting later and both men were panting, out of breath from the exertion. Snake looked as comfortable as he could be and Otacon gave a smile at that, leaning down to press a firm kiss against Snake’s forehead. He leaned back, levelled his face with Snake’s, and looked into his eyes.

“Porridge?”

At this, Snake’s eyes seemed to brighten a little, and he furiously blinked twice.

“Listen, mister, I have to feed you something.”

Snake huffed in defeat, his chest wheezing. He coughed. Otacon eyed the bucket.

But nothing came. A few moments passed in worried silence before Otacon shifted, placed a chaste peck on Snake’s cheek and turned to leave the room. He was at the door when-

“Hal.” It was croaky, barely above a whisper.

Otacon turned to look at him, face plastered with a smile that he tried to pass off as real. “Yes?” It hurt to hear him talk on days like this. It wasn’t his voice.

Snake’s mouth flapped and his chest puffed, his eyes wavered, the strain of talking taking everything from him. He gurgled in the back of his throat, his eyebrows knotting together in anger as he tried to get his words out.

“You know you shouldn’t talk on days like this. It’s bad for yo-”

“Love.”

Otacon stopped, gasped. It was his turn to struggle with words now, breathless for a completely different reason. And it felt so good to hear him say it again. And it hurt so much. God, it hurt so much.

“I love you too, David,” was the best that he could get out before hastily leaving the room so that Snake didn’t see him cry.

Otacon tries so hard to stop sobbing as he prepares the porridge. To no avail.  
  
\----------  
  
Sometimes Snake had good days.

Sometimes Snake had bad days.

Today was going to be a good day, Otacon thought to himself as he woke up to an empty bed and the sound of movement in the lounge. He stretched, grinning wide and groaning. Hastily throwing on his night gown, he left the bedroom to join Snake.

Who was busy sitting on the window sill, smoking. The thin silver waves flowed out from his mouth, catching the light to create a beautiful moving painting. He turned, giving a toothy grin and taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Mornin’ Hal,” he said, gruff. That was his voice.

“Morning,” Otacon replied, walking slowly over to him until he was within arm’s reach. He took the cigarette from him, stubbing it out in the ash tray that Snake had put on the sill. That earned him a huff and a questioning eyebrow raise. “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again,” Otacon started softly, amusement in his voice “you shouldn’t be smoking these.”

Snake huffed. “What, ‘cause they’ll kill me?”

That hurt.

“No. Because I don’t like the smell.” His eyes wandered up to Snake’s and he smiled, biting his bottom lip. He shifted the ash tray out of the way and moved closer in to Snake’s personal space, leaning a hand on the leg that he had perched on the sill. He moved in, placed a kiss against Snake’s lips, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of him reciprocating.

Snake kissed back.

Today really was going to be a good day.

Humming, Otacon leaned in more, wrapping his arms around Snake’s neck and playing with the hair at the nape.

Snake deepened the kiss, ran his tongue across Otacon’s lips, asking for permission, begging for entrance. And Otacon obliged willingly, opening his mouth to taste Snake and cigarettes and morning breath. He giggled. That was alright. As long as it was Snake, he wouldn’t mind. As long as it was Snake he couldn’t care less.

Groaning with the effort of removing himself from his lover, Otacon pulled away and looked at him, eyes heavy with adoration. He hummed. “Good morning, David.”

“Good morning, Hal.”

They stood for a while, staring each other, fingers drawing meandering lines over each other’s bodies and faces.

“I ever tell you how gorgeous you look when you’ve only just woken up?”

Otacon snorted. “You have, yeah.”

Snake smirked, all toothy and sly. “You look gorgeous when you’ve only just woken up.”

Otacon chuckled, cheeks going red, and buried his face in Snake’s chest; who promptly wrapped his arms around him.

“Your mussy hair,” a kiss to his hair, “your dishevelled gown,” a squeeze of his ass, “your cute, sleepy face,” a kiss to his nose. A kiss to his lips. Otacon was beaming. He liked days like this. Days like this were the best days. “I like seeing you in the morning.”

Otacon cupped Snake’s face in his hands and drew him in for another kiss. And it was messy because they were both laughing in to it. But it was perfect. So perfect. The cold breeze from the window, the sound of children playing outside, the birds singing to each other. It was perfect.

But it wasn’t long before Otacon pulled away again, breathless and light headed. And then Snake was running his fingers through his hair and Otacon was sighing with delight, leaning in to the touch as much as possible.

“I was thinking we could leave the house today,” Snake muttered. “I would like to go for a walk.”

“You think you can handle that?” A legitimate question.

“You’re doubting me now? After everything we’ve been through?” A jokey rebuttal. “Besides,” he started, lacing both hands with Otacon’s, “I’m feeling really good today. Haven’t felt like this in a long time actually.”

Oh.

It was going to be that kind of good day.

The last good day.

The doctors had warned them both of this. That a day might come where Snake would feel on top of the world. Like he was never sick. Like he wasn’t dying. Like he was more the age he was than the age his body was making him out to be. And Otacon was trying so hard to keep the smile on his face from wavering. He was trying so hard to keep the sadness hidden as he came to the realisation that this could be it. This could really be it.

“That sounds like it could be fun.”

So they went out. They walked. To the park, to the shops, to the pond with the ducks, to Snake’s favourite restaurant. They had a wonderful day. A day filled with hand holding and loving embraces and stolen kisses when nobody was looking. Otacon didn’t really like the idea of PDA, had outwardly refused to hold Snake’s hand in public when they first got together all those years ago. But now it was a little worse, Otacon’s anxiety taking hold. Questions of whether or not people were looking at them and judging them for their age difference. Whether or not people were whispering about sugar daddies and boy toys. Whether or not people were disgusted by them.

But every time Snake squeezed his hand, every time he looked at him lovingly, he forgot about that. Remembered that he knew the truth. Remembered that Snake wasn’t actually old. Remembered that they loved each other.

And it was a good day. It was a really good day. They ate and talked and laughed harder than they had in a year. They danced and caressed each other in ways that Otacon thought they never would ever again. Heck, when they got in to a heated, playful argument when they got back to the apartment, there was poking and slapping of arms and shoving. Snake even managed to get Otacon in a loose stranglehold as he rubbed his mussy hair, the both of them chuckling like school kids.

And it wasn’t long before they were kissing, breathing in to each other’s mouths, moaning names and sweet nothings. They landed on the bed with a dull thud, Otacon squirming under the weight and heat of Snake. Just like old times.

“You sure about this? I don’t want to wear you out.” He tried to make it sound jokey but he really was worried about wearing Snake down.

“Dammnit Hal, take your clothes off,” was the hasty reply he got. And who could say no to that command?

They kissed and touched, removing clothes and groaning when skin made contact with heated skin. Otacon flipped them so that he was on top, reaching for the untouched bottle of lube and wiggling temptingly on top of Snake. Who, in turn, gave a deep growling sound.

“You keep doing things like that and I’m not going to last very long.”

Otacon huffed, amused, and when he retrieved the lube, he made a show of opening it with his teeth and pouring it, slowly, on to his fingers.

And yes, despite the fact that they’d done this innumerable times before, Otacon was nervous. But it was the nice kind of nervous, the happy kind of nervous that you get when you’re first in a relationship with someone and they give you butterflies. The anticipatory kind of nervous. He was never fond of his body, never thought he amounted to much, especially when compared to someone like the great Solid Snake. But over the years he’d grown to know that Snake loved him. All of him. And, sometimes, that’s all he ever needed.

He teased himself with his fingers, knew the way he wanted it, wanted to put on a show for Snake. And he could tell he was enjoying it, breath puffing through his nose, nostrils flaring, eyes blown wide and black with lust. When the first finger breached, he settled back on Snake’s stomach and rode his own finger like he would Snake’s cock, staring at him intently throughout.

Snake’s hands were on him in an instant, grasping just above his hips. And he was telling him dirty things, telling him just how much he was turning him on.

“I ever tell you how gorgeous you look when you’re finger fucking yourself on top of me?”

Otacon breathed. “I don’t think you have, no.”

Snake sat up momentarily, licked Otacon’s ear and whispered, “You look so fucking good.”

Otacon bucked forward just as Snake returned to lying down. He placed his free hand on Snake’s chest and leaned forwards to give himself room to add another finger, mewling with pleasure at the stretch he felt inside of him. Christ it had been so long. And this felt so good. But it didn’t quite feel as good as Snake’s cock.

He looked at the man beneath him and bit his lip. Snake was looking at him like he was hungry. And he looked so much younger, too, in this moment. Like the last few years of rapid aging hadn’t happened.

But... Snake was ageing. Snake was old.

Snake was dying.

Overwhelmed by the emotion of it all, Otacon fell forward to capture Snake’s lips in a sloppy kiss, and pressed his third finger into himself. He rocked his hips down into Snake’s abdomen, cock rubbing his skin, before rocking backwards to press his fingers in deeper. And he wanted. Wanted Snake’s cock inside of him. Wanted to just feel connected with him one more time. But knew that might not be a possibility.

Which is why, when he felt Snake shift beneath him, he was surprised to see him stroking himself. He sat up, turned his head to see. And, God, what a sight it was. Snake’s cock was hard, already leaking, his hand moving lazily to coat it with lube.

Otacon’s gaze returned to Snake’s and he looked on in wonderment.

“Do you want to?” Snake asked.

“Only if you’re sure.”

“Hal, would I be asking if I wasn’t?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Dammnit, Hal. I’m not made of glass.”

They both chuckled at this, happy and all at once carefree. Like there wasn’t anything strange about the situation. Like they were just two 30 to 40-somethings making love with each other. Which, technically, they were.

He wiggled down Snake’s body, gripping his wrist and looking once more into his eyes. His hand slid down to meet Snake’s, who slowly released his cock and wound his hands back up Otacon’s body, once again resting just above his hips. Otacon positioned himself and sank.

Down.

Down.

Down.

Until Snake was buried fully inside of him. Deep and hard. And oh, so right. The moan that filled the room was a mutual one, breathy and awe struck. Mouths open and eyes closed. Otacon threw his head back, was so overwhelmed by finally connected with the man he loved again. Could come just from the emotion alone. But he wanted this to last. He needed this to last. Didn’t want it to end.

What with the knowledge that this would never happen again. That tomorrow morning one of them might not even wake up.

When he’d managed to calm down and regain his vision, Otacon began slowly rocking his hips, not yet thrusting up and down, but just gently rolling in order to set up a pace. And, God, it was driving him mad. He wanted nothing more than to feel and to fuck, nothing more than to bounce and pull and touch and come. But it remained slow, loving, bittersweet.

It was all so bittersweet.

Snake’s eyes connected with his, glassy yet full of emotion, his face was full of love. Otacon drew a shaky breath, slowly lifted up and pushed back down, watched as Snake squeezed his eyes shut at the motion. He’d missed that face. So taught with pleasure instead of the usual pain. And yet so open and carefree and undeniably happy.

Placing his hands either side of Snake’s head, Otacon leaned down to capture his mouth in a quick kiss. At least, it would have been a quick kiss had Snake not utterly devoured him, forcibly running his tongue across his teeth and biting his lips. So Otacon gave him everything, opened himself completely to the man beneath him, and moved.

Up and down.

Up and down.

With a twist of his hips every now and then.

Soon the room was filled with their collective groans, as well as the ones of the rickety bed beneath them. The air was hot and thick, palpable with intense emotions. And they were kissing and thrusting, Snake meeting every one of Otacon’s thrust, chasing upward after him when he removed himself, lowering to the bed when he pushed down.

Otacon sat back up, breathless and dizzy, had to place his hands on Snake’s broad chest to steady himself. His head was thrown back seconds later when Snake sharply thrust upward, pushing in to Otacon just right.

“There.” The whine escaped him without him noticing and he pushed down to feel it again, moaning when Snake hit his prostate again. And again. “Oh…” He was close. Didn’t want to come yet. Didn’t want this to end.

Didn’t want the pulsing of Snake’s heart beneath his fingers to stop. Didn’t want the sting of Snake’s cock to disappear. Didn’t want the end to come.

Didn’t want their end to come.

He slowed his hips slightly, scratched at Snake’s chest, trying to find purchase, to find something to cling on to so he didn’t fall ever further. He breathed in, looked down at Snake, at the blissed out, smiling face of the man he loved more than anything in the world. He stilled, slid one hand up to brush against the left side of Snake’s face, smoothed his fingers across the scar. He wanted to engrain this moment into his mind, burn it so it was the only memory he had left. But he wanted to remember all the times they’d kissed. The first time they made love, slow and passionate. Their first fuck, quick and needy. The first time Snake had said ‘I love you’. The first time they really truly looked and saw each other as they were.

Not the living legend, born from tests and forced to fight without ever truly knowing why. Not the nerd hell-bent on apologising for something that wasn’t his fault. Just Hal and David, two men utterly hopelessly in love with each other for who they were.

The way David echoed something he didn’t understand. The way he smiled when he kissed Hal. The way his hair fell around his face, mussed in the morning.

The way they fit together so perfectly.

Otacon couldn’t take it, lay on Snake and hid his face in his neck so he wouldn’t see him cry. He wouldn’t cry. Not now. Not when he could see. He kissed Snake’s neck and wrapped his hands as best he could around his shoulders, clung on for dear life. If death wanted to take Snake from him, it would have to pry him from his own cold dead hands.

He would not let go.

“Hal.” Otacon let out a small sob. “Hal, look at me.” He couldn’t hold back the flood of tears much longer. “Hal.” Otacon’s head rose and he looked, eyes wet with tears, into the love filled eyes of his partner. “I love you.”

His head fell again, mouth connecting with Snake’s in a sloppy kiss. He let go, let the tears fall freely from his eyes, let all of the tension release from his body. Let himself feel the pleasure of being close to release rebuild inside his body as Snake thrust into him with precision.

He was flipped carefully onto his back, Snake’s large muscular frame surrounding him. One large hand cradled his head and pulled him up to his mouth while the other was planted firmly on the bed.

Snake bucked in to Otacon, groaning deep in the back of his throat. It wasn’t long before the pace reached that of what it was earlier, Otacon feeling overwhelmed with the amount of force that Snake was rutting in to him with. He couldn’t hold back the tears now, but neither did he suppress the ‘I love yous’, the moans, nor the litany of curse words pouring from his mouth.

His head was lowered to the bed carefully, and he wrapped his arms around Snake’s neck as he placed his other hand the other side of Otacon’s head and sped up. He was impossibly quick, impossibly rough. And Otacon knew, now, that he was close to his peak.

“David.” It was quiet. He felt as though speaking it too loud would break the illusion. Like he’d wake up any second now and Snake’s taught body would be lying next to him. Or, worse, that there would be nobody next to him at all. “David, I love you.”

Snake growled, teeth bared, and bucked with all of his might in to Otacon. One hand slithered its way down Otacon’s body to grasp at his untouched cock. He played with the head, gathered the liquid that had collected there, before tugging harshly.

Otacon bucked upward, shifting where Snake was hitting inside him and fuck that was good. He mothed words that he didn’t have the breath to voice, snapped his hips again when Snake twisted his wrist just so.

They were panting now, Snake’s breath spreading hot across Otacon’s face. He leaned his forehead against Otacon’s looked deeply into his eyes. All Otacon could see was how dark Snake’s eyes were, how utterly full of love and need they were.

Otacon raised his mouth up for one last wet and desperate kiss as Snake tugged once, twice, before he came, body shaking with the force of his orgasm. He felt Snake still within him, felt the warmth of him filling him up from the inside and it was like he was coming undone all over again. He twitched violently, cries of pleasure forcing their way from his mouth as his head pushed in to the bed beneath him. But through the pounding of his ears, the creak of the bed, the rustle of the sheets and the deafening pitch of his own cries, he could hear the unmistakable voice of his lover calling out to him. Telling him he loved him. Spitting out curses like they were going out of fashion.

When they’d finally come down from their high, Snake brushed away the sweat soaked hair from Hal’s forehead and kissed the uncovered skin. He peppered him with kisses. His eyes, his nose, his cheeks, before finally coming to rest on his mouth. His hands, now firmly planted on the bed either side of Otacon’s face, gripped the sheets as his arms shook with the struggle of trying to keep him upright.

Otacon was the one who broke the kiss. He looked up to his lover and smiled sweetly. His eyes followed him as he collapsed in a spent heap next to him, his arms outstretched in an inviting gesture.

“That was nice,” Snake said.

Otacon gave a hum of agreement. “Very nice.”

“Hal?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m tired.”

Oh.

“Oh. Okay.” He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. Tried to hide the fear. Tried to stop the anxiety. He snuggled in to Snake’s chest, wrapped his arms around his back in an uncharacteristically protective gesture. He didn’t really know what to say. “Good day?” That was a start, at least.

“A very good day.” Snake replied. And then hummed in contemplation.

“What is it?”

There was a pause. Otacon felt Snake’s hand stroking up and down his back, felt his fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. The silence persisted. “A very good day…”

And Otacon knew this really was it. This really was going to be Snake’s last good day. And it hurt. But the worst part of it all? The crushing realisation? Was that, evidently, Snake knew it, too.

“I love you, Hal.”  
  
\----------  
  
Sometimes Otacon had good days.

Sometimes Otacon had bad days.

Today was going to be a bad day, Otacon thought to himself as he tumbled down to the floor in tears because he’d placed two plates on the dinner table.


End file.
